Petulant Pia

Petulant Pia

Part Two The Sharp employ the Sharp

I place the knife on the table, stand back and admire you again, naked and bound before me. This is how I like to have my Pia. You see my eyes roaming over your body, my eyes taking hold of your breasts, my eyes parting your legs, my eyes possessing your sex. Although I have seen you like this several times before, still feelings of shame run over you, shame at having let yourself so easily be manoeuvred into this position, at being exposed in this way to a dominant man. And you know that your naked body arouses me, stimulates me to creative thought of acts I could inflict on you, and you start imagining which wild ideas might be going through my mind. No! Rebellion returns. You won't let anything happen! You snap out again and commence a quick invective. “That's enough now. You've had your little fun. Now let me go and we'll pretend this never happened. I want to put new clothes on. I want to go for a walk. Untie me! Let…” I clamp my hand strongly over your mouth, pressing your head back against the post, cutting off this little tirade.

“Subdue your anger, Pia, or it will subdue you. Had my little fun, have I? Want to get dressed, do you?” My voice is, for the first time, slightly tinged with controlled sarcasm. “You can forget about getting dressed for a long while. You know very well that I am going to take want I want from you. The only sensible choice for you is to cooperate. If you do not then I will take you anyway. You will either voluntarily acquiesce or I will possess you by force, all of you. Depending on my inclination, I may decide initially to possess you using solely physical strength, and, believe me, brutally raping you would procure me immense satisfaction – it is the purest manifestation of male sexual power over a woman.

Notwithstanding, whether I rape you or not, you will eventually willingly and lovingly submit to me. I will not release you until you reach the wonderland of submission where you do not wish for release. ”

I take my hand from your subdued mouth and hold both nipples again between thumb and forefinger of each hand, twisting them now, until I see a wince on your face. This was deliberately inflicted pain.

“Now we need something to keep that impertinent mouth of yours shut for a while don't we?”

I pull both nipples down and you must slide down the post. You are now on your knees, legs tied apart, hands cuffed behind your back and the post. I let go of your nipples and stand up. You cannot get up from this position.

“Now Pia. You are in the position to which all women should aspire – on your knees, ready to pleasure me. If you work hard at pleasing me you will not suffer quite as much later.”

Your face is at the level of my hips. I undo my zipper and bring out my cock in front of your face. It is hard, its angry head purple with desire.

But your subordinate position only heightens your resolve and your green eyes defiantly flash. “You'll never get me to cooperate! Never!” Your will is fully intact. You again turn your face away.

I smile broadly at this and put my cock away, zipping up again. “It's quite delightful of you to resist like that. This is the response I wanted. It's a gift to me, you know. In fact we both know what it means. It's a delectable, ostentatious, lascivious come-on for me to inflict the most sadistic of my desires on you, isn't it?”

“No!!” you shake your head again. “No it isn't.”

But I am not listening and am untying you from the post, clipping your hands again behind your back. I untie the leg restraint and pull you up onto your feet, guiding you into the bedroom. The bedroom is again spacious, in tones of yellow ochre and orange rust. The bed is large and you notice many “ points de fixation ”.

“It is time for you to feel constraint, to feel the firm guidance of tight bondage.

We are all of us the worse for too much liberty, are we not?”

I bring out a rope and slowly tie it into a six-coil hangman's noose. The noose is looped over your neck and with it I pull you onto the bed, constricting your throat, albeit not excessively, and I tie the free end over the headboard.

“May I remind you again that there is to be no physical resistance.”

The next constraint is in the form of a thin string which I loop around your clitoral ring, run between your sex lips, and pull back between your sex lips and tie to the bottom bar on the bed. Next I reveal a small two-pronged hook on a string. I show it to you. There is never a blitzed surprise. I always take my time, introducing you fully to each instrument that I am going to use on you.

I turn you over on your back and hook the prongs in your nostrils and loop the string over the headboard in a round turn and two half hitches. Now comes the tension. I slowly pull the clitoral string, causing you to shift down the bed, and this tightens the hook in your nostrils. Your nostrils are in discomfort, your head arched back, your neck stretched with the noose tightening further, but this tension is necessary to prevent sharp pain in your clitoris. Your legs are closed tightly, hiding the fishing line from view.

“There is always tension in life, always a balance to be struck.” I say. “Many tensions are necessary, such as those involved in making occasional decisions between work and play, or between family and friends. But your predicament here mirrors another, strong tension your life, Pia, a tension that you perceive between sexual independence and submitting to me.

You are here because you yearn for domination, and yet you resist it. You crave overpowering, for your will to be forced, but you are too proud to admit this. Well, I will indeed break your will, but only because it entertains me to do so. And as spin-offs I will satisfy this selfish, hedonistic craving of yours and will lead you to the paradise of total submission. You will bitterly regret not having utterly sacrificed yourself earlier.”

A new rope is tied to your left knee. “Your legs are closed. You must learn to always open your legs, at every opportunity, in my presence. This must be automatic. You will have no secret, feminine intimacy to hide from me – nothing. Your raison d'être will be to please me sexually and the most basic manifestation of this is your constant availability to be used for penetration. If you try to close your legs, then I will force them open, rape you mercilessly, then punish you severely, each time, until eventually you have learned and assimilated.”

I pull the rope and your left leg parts. I tie the rope to the side of the bed. The same with the right leg and your legs are now stretched wide apart, with the clitoral ring pulled down with its wire taut in between your vaginal lips.

I go into the bathroom and you must again wait. I return carrying a jar of fluid. In the jar you can see several large fishhooks, each about three centimetres long. I take one out of the sterilising fluid and hold it in front of your face, turning it round for your inspection. This cold, shining, steel hook has a viciously sharp point and is cruelly barbed. These are not the small, innocent hooks we had played with previously.

“You…you're not intending…” you stammer, your stomach instantly gripped by fear.

“The sharp employ the sharp, don't you think? The gardener gave them to me when we arrived. He needs them to snag the large carp in the front pond for inspection, but they are also available to snag women who let them be lured here by the irresistible bait of a dominant man. He knows exactly what I need them for.”

I continue. “ Will you please remember, throughout our séance this evening, that I have it in my power to inflict pain on you at any moment and to whatever degree I choose. Might is the measure of right. Sex is too important for prevarication and niceties – it is the future of mankind and hence the dominion of the sword. If you fail to obey, or even to serve my sexual needs with what I judge to be your full ability, then you will cry out in pain, immediately. Do you understand that?”

You panic now, trembling visibly. “You wouldn't…” This is going far too far. “You couldn't…”

“I can see the fear in your eyes, Pia.” I say calmly. ”The fear is justified”

I take the first large hook and calmly twist a piece of string around it. I take the nostril hook out now and loosen the noose. Why? You look down. That is why. So that you should look at what will happen to you. The hook is making its way to the underside of your left breast. I scratch its honed point gently, playfully, over the skin. Then push gently.

The tip of the hook breaks through the skin. I push further. A sharp pain now pierces your breast. “Ouch!” The tip of the hook re-emerges. The underside of your breast is hooked.

Another hook is pushed through the underside of your right breast. I pull on both ropes gently, eliciting a yelp from you and “Please stop. Please. That's enough.”

I do not respond. You see my cock, out again, bobbing by your side. You realise that pushing the hooks through your skin has excited me. This revelation leads to a cocktail of contradictory emotions; a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach arising from fleeting thoughts as to where this might all lead, but also excitement at the clear proof that I am not doing this for you, but for my own sadistic pleasure.

“You see my cock, Pia?”

“Yes.”

“What thoughts go through your mind when you see it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I will explain to you what you must think. When you see my cock, or indeed when you do not see it, your only desire must be to strive with everything in your feminine power to make it hard. You should lovingly look up into my eyes, begging for permission to suck it and pleasure it and bring it to ejaculation. Moreover, seeing that hooking your breasts has excited me should provoke a feeling of deep satisfaction in you, because you have long pined for pain at the hands of a strong, sexually-aroused man. ”

You wonder. Yes, it is true that I long to suffer, to be taken, to be dominated and forced to submit. But why does he want to dominate me ? What drives him ? Is it just to have unfettered, uncomplicated, unlimited penetration? After all, that is the essence of what all men want, isn't it? Maybe he is no different from all the others? Or maybe he is doing this just for my own good? Maybe he loves me, knows what I desire, and just wants to make me happy?

“Why do you wish for power over me?” you ask.

I answer. “You are maybe wondering whether my desire for power over you is motivated by love?” You nod. “That is foolish, Pia. You should know better than to imagine a thing like that. I will now hurt you.”

I take out another, even bigger hook from another jar that you had not seen. Panic returns.

“Pia, there are three stages in your education. There is learning, there is understanding, and there is acceptance. You have already learned a lot in the six months that we have known each other. It is time for you to enter the understanding phase.”

I bring the hook in front of your eyes again, and then move it slowly down to the underside of your left nipple. The tip of the hook grazes the nipple – the skin does not break. You are trembling uncontrollably.

“Now I will tell you the answer to your question. I seek power over you entirely for its own sake. What pure sexual power means you will understand presently. But first consider power in everyday life, in politics, for example. Some leaders do not want real power. They dominate reluctantly, unwillingly, and hope for a limited tenure. But they are cowards. No true leader seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it. And my power over you will last our lifetimes and even beyond, as both you and I will write perennial elegies to it. Power is not a means, it is an end. The object of power is power.”

Despite your predicament and fear you must absorb what I have said, but say nothing.

Still holding the hook close to your nipple, I continue. “How does a man assert his power over a defenceless woman, Pia?”

A pause. “By making her suffer?” you venture, quivering.

“Exactly. By making her suffer. Obedience is not enough. Unless she is suffering, how can a man be sure that she is obeying his will and not her own? Power is in inflicting pain. And for this, the femininity, intimacy and sensitivity of your nipples render them prime targets.”

I push the large hook through the nipple. You scream out now. Loudly. A tiny trickle of blood seeps out of your nipple as the cruel barb breaks through the other side.

I muse, contentedly. “Isn't it beautiful how nature has constructed us with bilateral symmetry. This presents us with the possibility of repeating nipple piercing.”

The same operation is performed with another hook, through the other nipple. Another scream. And desperate panic, as you cannot imagine how these barbed hooks can ever come out again.

I tie all four hook strings together, then, with sheet bends, to a thicker rope. You now see a pulley attached above the bed to the low ceiling. I loop the thick rope through the pulley and pull it taught. The four hooks stand to attention, working, taut, admirably serving their purpose. I replace the nostril hook and pull it tight, forcing your head to arch backwards again. I tighten the noose around your neck, constricting your throat, and I leave the room.

End of Part Two